


don't let the current catch you, cause you've been here before

by Maharetchan



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/pseuds/Maharetchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana visits an old friend with a request.<br/>Molly remembers a past life and considers a new future.</p><p>Post 3x07 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't let the current catch you, cause you've been here before

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is either. I'm so sorry.  
> Hit me up at arabellestrange on tumblr for more bisexual Molly Foster xoxo

Molly isn't sure what it says about her that the first thing she notices about Alana as she gets out of her car, and is welcomed by her pack of mutts that she greets with a bright and encouraging smile, is not the hint of incipient belly she catches in the other woman, but her hairstyle and her clothes.

 

The Alana she used to know wore beautiful, colorful wrap dresses that always reminded Molly of tropical birds, that brought out the natural colors of her eyes and cheeks. This new one wears strikingly tailored suits, a mixture of blacks, blues and reds that harden her features and give her a new sharp and angular look.

 

Molly is not sure she likes it, but she smiles anyway. Alana does as well, and rushes towards her to hug her: Molly laughs and when she looks at her again she only sees her old friend, with her kind eyes and her infectious grin.

 

She breathes more easily after that.

 

“You got such a nice house! Is your son still at school?”

 

She nods as she pours the two of them some iced tea: the dogs sniff Alana with keen interest, and she reciprocates their affections with petting and caresses. Molly vaguely thinks that she has always been a sucker for strays, much like herself: but the ones that Alana picked up on the road turned out to be more wolves that dogs, and their bites are still fresh wounds on her skin.

 

“Yeah, he'll get back in a few hours. You look... good. Really good: much better than you did in the hospital. I'm happy for you.”

 

Pregnancy gave Alana a glow that seems to shine through the texture of her skin, and that intensifies as she caresses her belly: Molly remembers the feeling of having Walter moving inside of her, growing and getting stronger.

 

It fills her with a warmth that makes her smile; even now, she looks at Walter and the memories of those days flood back into her with an intensity that she can barely keep contained. But then come those of Andrew holding her in bed while she was expecting, of him whispering to her belly, on his smile when she told him she was finally pregnant.

 

And that sweetness turns sour in her mouth, but she tries not to let it show.

 

“Thank you for visiting me back then; it was nice to see a familiar face...”

 

Molly knows what she means, and tries to hold her tongue, but they have always been frank to each other, Alana and her, in good and bad.

 

“I must've been one of the few left uninjured. It was only fair of me to visit: you came to my wedding, to my son's christening, to his first birthday party. You're one of my oldest friends.”

 

Alana's expression hardens for a moment, because her words hit her exactly like she knew they would, but she understands that there's no malice in them, no desire to actually hurt: so she laughs it off, stretches out her hand and her fingers brush against Molly's.

 

“And I hope you'll reciprocate. I can't wait to introduce you to Margot: I'm sure you two will get along.”

 

Molly feels suddenly restless, like her skin is prickling underneath and propelling her to do something, anything. She gets up to fill the dogs' bowls with fresh water, all this under Alana's watchful eyes.

 

“You look happy: honestly, I never imagined you having children, but... it really becomes you. I'm sure Margot is a wonderful woman.”

 

“She is: and I never imagined it either before. But I don't regret this choice, I'm sure you understand what I'm saying.”

 

Alana is trying to establish a connection between their shared experience with motherhood, and it's a wonderful trick, because it works perfectly, slipping into Molly the desire to hear whatever she has to say despite the fact that she's almost sure she's not going to like it.

 

“I know, yeah. I felt the same with Walter. But I also know you very well, which is why I can tell you want something from me and that that's why you're here today.”

 

The other woman sips her tea with a guilty smile on her face, but instead of pissing her off, it helps Molly relax, and she goes back to sit in front of her, crossing her arms on her chest and waiting in silence.

 

“That obvious, uh?”

 

She just shrugs.

 

“I'm going on maternity leave from teaching at the Academy in two months: I was thinking... you could be my replacement. It's only three days a week for six hours; you'd still have plenty of time for your shop and your son...”

 

Molly has the unpleasant vision of herself walking through the FBI corridors once again after so many years, of wearing her badge and ditching her comfortable clothes for the formal ones she has stashed in the back on her wardrobe. It makes her shiver and she's sure Alana noticed it.

 

“I'm retired, you know that. God, all I ever did of remotely related to teaching lately, has been writing two papers like... two years ago! I'm sure you can find plenty of more qualified people to cover for you.”

 

Alana sighs deeply, but doesn't stop smiling, and in a passing thought, she's reminded of how beautiful she looks, and the image of a younger Alana mergers with the current one in front of her eyes. They became friends during collage, shared their days in more ways than people normally do, probably: she stayed in her life with her gentle kindness and her understanding smiles, and Molly sighs for a past they miss, but will never get back.

 

She has seen Alana wounded and broken, disillusioned and bitter: now she observes her as she builds a new life from scratches: she can relate more than she would like to.

 

“You were a brilliant training agent, and one of the best criminal psychologist to work for the Bureau. You're still missed, you know? And I know a part of you loved the job and misses it as well.”

 

Yes, she does miss it: she was ambitious in her own personal way, motivated to do good, to make a difference. She devoted years to her career, postponed having a child despite how much she loved Andrew: he understood her, maybe didn't approve, but stayed by her side, supported her even when she went back to work fairly soon after the birth of their son.

 

Molly remembers him welcoming her home with baby Walter in his arms, kissing her and asking her about her day. She worked hard, brought results, was respected.

 

And then all that lost meaning the moment Andrew was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer. It felt like a bubble suddenly exploding and depriving her of her natural habitat, leaving her exposed and hopeless.

 

She tried to push forward, to balance her job, her family, coming to terms with her husband's impending death: she stuffed it all inside her heart, left it there to rot and grow like an infection until it was too much, until it poisoned her blood and her soul.

 

One day she came home after missing Andrew's chemio appointment for the third time, because when the Bureaus calls you go where it tells you to go, to find him passed out on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own vomit.

 

She quit right after that and never came back.

 

Now Alana is here with her words, her praise, her encouraging comments: the image keeps popping into her head, but it's not as striking as it was before, not as terrifying.

 

Molly sighs deeply.

 

“I wouldn't know what to do there: I'm not qualified anymore, not as good as I was; and I have my life here, my son. You said that would leave me time, but we both know how much that jobs sucks out of you, how it messes with your head. You, of all people, should understand.”

 

Alana takes a deep breath: Molly stares at her belly, pictures the child she's expecting. She's not sure why she's clinging to that thought, to that specific connection, but it won't leave her.

 

“I won't force you to say yes, you know this. But... I wouldn't trust anyone else with this: only you. There's need of good people there, who just want to do their job and help others.”

 

“Helping others is not as important to me as it used to be: protecting your family matters much more.”

 

The light in Alana's eyes tells her she understands, probably a lot more than Molly thought at first: what happened to you, she wants to ask. What have you done?

 

She changed, so deeply Molly can't quite put all the pieces together yet: and that need to understand, to crack the mysteries hidden the surface is the echo of what drawn her to work for the FBI in the first place. She silently curses herself and Alana.

 

“Give it a thought at least? For old times' sake?”

 

Alana reaches out to touch her hand faintly, just a hint of fingers against her skin: it brings her back to brighter, more hopeful days, when they were less scarred, less frightened, less wounded by a life that spared them nothing.

 

They carry their sorrows inside themselves: Alana also wears the consequences of her brushing with death right on her body. Molly knows what's like: she watched the man she loved more than anything waste away and die in her arms, she raised her son knowing that nothing she could tell him would compensate Andrew's absence.

 

Alana lost her innocence and her hope for the future thanks to the care of Hannibal Lecter; she lost it to the cancer that ripped the love of her life from her.

 

They're broken people counting and comparing their cracks: it makes her smile.

 

“You must be really desperate.”

 

Alana laughs, but her eyes are far away, lost in memories she can't share with her.

 

“I'm just determined to get what I want: even if it's just the possibility of you saying yes.”

 

Molly holds her hand and sighs. In the end, she always wins.

 

“I'll consider it.”

 

And the way Alana smiles, tells her it's worth it.


End file.
